Ingredients
by AvarageJane
Summary: Steve cooks and thinks about the past, the present, and food.


**This is a random drabble about Steve and cooking that I thought of from the prompt "Ingredients". There's not much else I can say besides enjoy :)**

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Steve always loved cooking. There was something running the kitchen that relaxed him in a way that little else did. There was nothing about the military in the kitchen, no threat of death, and no larger-than-him guys threatening to beat the shit out of him. There was nothing that he couldn't control in the kitchen, from the heat of the stove to the flavor of his latest concoction that he most likely made from scratch with some obscure recipe that his mom had taught him all those years ago. Though, if the blond really thought about it, he felt at home in the kitchen. He cooked for his mom all the time, as well as on the battlefield; that is, when they were stationed in an area where there was something that slightly resembled a kitchen.

Now, living in the Avengers mansion, there was something about the kitchen that still called to him. There was something to be said about the new kitchen appliances, being that he was now seventy years in the future, and there is definite pride on the fact that it only took him one month to figure them all out. Whoever invented the 'nonstick teflon' pan is a god that should be worshiped on a regular basis, as well as the inventor of the 'food processor' that allows him to have juice of almost anything. Granted, Tony didn't make life easier for him by making sure that he had all of the newest editions of every kitchen appliance known to man, as well as some inventions of his own, but he did get help from Bruce and Clint. They took some pity on him and showed him the basics, which were essentially all they knew, with the exception of knowing how to make scrambled eggs.

The blue eyed man appreciated the amazing kitchen he was gifted, which only lead him to cooking every meal that they had that wasn't argued by Tony too loudly. The engineer was quite stubborn about shawarma, or some other random food, on Sundays as well as special occasions. Steve would quite honestly just take whatever he could get.

Taking the time to appreciate the look of his new kitchen, Steve walked to the refrigerator and began looking through its contents, wanting nothing else but to cook something. At this point, he didn't even care what it was he was going to cook; he just needed to keep his hands busy.

"Eggs, milk, onions, cheese, bell pepper, ham, celery, tomato, bacon, and mushrooms. Check." He muttered absentmindedly to himself, grabbing as much as he possibly could on one go before setting it down on the island and going back to the fridge to get the rest. It was only eight in the morning, making it almost certain that no one in the tower was awake besides maybe Natasha, and even she liked sleeping in until ten latest. He could feel the warm rays of the sun shining on his back as it rose in the sky through the ridiculously large windows, making his kitchen seem that much more ethereal.

"Okay, so… bowl. I need a bowl," The thoughts left his lips as he began working through the kitchen, making his favorite breakfast meal. Omelets were easy and simple to make, as all it really required was that the cook not burn the eggs. Steve went through mincing the vegetables in a way that only experience could allow as the movements were fluid and precise, making each square of ingredients exactly the same size without extra time. He mixed the egg and milk in a bowl before pouring it into the pan, listening to the hiss from the pan and smiling. This is what comes naturally to him, this is what he loves doing, and if he hadn't been determined to help out in the war, he would have most definitely become a chef.

Making sure to lower the stove's intensity, he poured in his minced ingredients to the egg. Blending the mixture and forming it into the half circle that he was accustomed to, the man set out on pulling out a plate as well as eating utensils. Everything looked expensive and breakable, thought he knew that Tony would never buy something that would break easily. Not with the Hulk and Thor living with him. The blond still remembered the first time Thor had accidentally dropped one of Tony's favorite mugs on the floor and it had shattered to pieces. Not only had Tony sulked for a whole three days, but Thor kept on trying to make it up to Tony in the only way he knew how, which meant a lot of wild Asgardian animals and relics appearing throughout the mansion.

Letting out a short laugh as he remembered the chaos that had ensured, the blond placed his food on his plate. It had taken about a day to clean the whole mess up, but it was definitely worth the trouble as the whole team had bonded much closer than he could have hoped in such a short time span.

Choosing his seat at the dinner table, the seat which gave him the best view of New York City, Steve finally began to eat. His blue eyes took in the buildings laid out in front of him, the streets, and the people rushing to get to work as well as the students trying to get to school on time. Everything was different than what he was used to, yet it was eerily similar. Sure, there were newer cars in the streets and newer fashions were seen, but the day to day life was still the same.

New century yet things were the same and that gave him hope. Hope for things to get better, things to stay the same, and things to simply be.


End file.
